Filled Stockings
by Gemenied
Summary: It's Christmas Day at Chez Boyd.


A/N: So, this little thing came to me on Christmas Day (which is why it's a little late for a Christmas story) and I blame it entirely on the Brookside episode "Extending" - if you get the chance to watch it, do so. That's some great work. So, in regards to this I need to thank **angelvk** for providing the eppy and **ShadowSamurai83** for all the work put into my stories.

I also want to thank you all for reading and commenting. It's been a wonderful year of writing and I'm glad to share what's in my mind with all of you.

But now: Enjoy.

**Title**: Filled Stockings

**Series**: Chez Boyd

**Rating**: T (barely suggesting)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. Really. And I'm not making money with this.

**Summary**: It's Christmas morning at Chez Boyd.

* * *

**Filled Stockings **

"Daddy!" The voice was disturbingly loud as it cut through his sleepy haze, and it was made worse by the fact that it was magnified by another voice. If he didn't love those voices so much... "Daddy! Santa was here! Get up! Get up! Santa was here!"

Grumbling, he rolled over, the grumble turning into a groan. "Why do they only yell for me?" he mumbled.

The voice next to him sounded a lot more awake, even though it was husky with sleep. Despite his sleepy annoyance it was a damn sexy sound, and inwardly he cursed the three little maggots who were disturbing him even more. "You are a much more promising target."

Opening an eye blearily, he tried to glare at her, but the success was pitiful, earning him only a smirk and a mock pitying caress. "Poor teddy bear."

In reply, the "teddy bear" growled as he pulled her closer into his arms. She squealed a little, then laughed as he began to tickle her through the covers and began to nibble on her neck. "I'll give you teddy bear," he growled against her skin, delighting in her shivers.

"Daddy! Santa was here!" Another multi-voiced scream resounded in the house.

"Mum and Dad are busy making out; they can't come down now!" Another voice shouted back mockingly, heavier footsteps stomping outside their bedroom door.

"Francesca!" The footsteps came to a screeching halt just a few feet down their door. The verbal reply was meek. At the same time there was a whirlwind storming inside the bed as the wave of motherly authority shot out of it to do serious business.

Inside the room, he fell back onto his pillow with a groan, any chance of further sleep well and truly gone. The alarm on his bedside table showed just after 7 and at that particular moment, he was absolutely convinced that he'd add another gift to his wife's presents: a written promise to get the snip.

Definitely.

* * *

Outside the room it was remarkably quiet, if you ignored the excited screeches of the two younger ones ambling back up to see what was keeping the rest of the family. He closed his eyes, willing to extend the peaceful moment, but it was short-lived as a dearly beloved voice - he hadn't heard that meek and uneasy in a long time - started to speak. At 11 their oldest was scarily self-confident and since he was if he was perfectly honest a wuss when it came to his girls, and the little boy between them, only her mother was capable of reigning her in.

That, however, worked like a charm.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," the meek voice from the door said. "I won't say anything like that again."

Opening one eye to give her a look, Boyd was surprised to see the silent tear tracks on his daughter's face, but considering the very dark cloud of anger emanating from the still scantily clad woman behind her, he felt sympathy for their little big girl.

Grace could be daunting when she just threw around her superior intelligence and knowledge, but in full anger, she was downright terrifying and if he was really honest...again...she could scare the living daylights out of him.

"Go!" The command was short, but there was a whole range of commands in those two letters and it affected not only Frankie, but Spencer and Mel as well, who were trying to tiptoe back to their rooms.

Still in the door frame, Grace closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then another. When she opened her eyes again, Boyd was shocked to see how calm she was again. "Get your dressing gowns and put on some socks and slippers. Then you can go back down and wait for us."

As quietly as they probably never were, the kids made their way to their bedrooms, while their mother walked into the room and fell heavily onto the bed. "We should have sold her when we had the chance, you know."

Boyd pulled her into his arms and kissed her cheek. "Nobody had enough camels to suit your demands."

She chuckled slightly. "Why do we have three?"

"The production, remember?"

"Which is why you should stop what you are doing right now," Grace mumbled, her breath a little uneven with every kiss he pressed to her neck.

"But it's so much fun."

"As is being woken up at 7 on Christmas Day by three overexcited little terrors who will be absolutely unbearable once they see their presents."

With a pained groan he fell back onto the bed. "That was a total mood killer, Grace."

Her warm and soft body was snuggling against his moments later. "Wasn't so much lately, was it?" she whispered. "Or were you just overly eager?"

He grinned and turned to kiss her again. "I've got a lot of incentive."

"Mum?" It was Frankie's voice again, still meek, still thin. "We are ready."

"See?" Grace smiled, then pushed away and gathered her dressing gown around her.

"Daddy?" Those kids were really master strategists, always sending Mel ahead to "convince" him to do something they wanted.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." From the corner of his eye he caught Grace's smirk, and outwardly rolled his eyes. Inwardly...was a whole different ballgame.

* * *

Half an hour later, the floor around the tree was invisible, littered with wrapping papers and now empty boxes. Even though they had agreed to curb their spending on Christmas presents, there were still an overwhelming number of them. And if he was honest, but on this day he certainly wouldn't be, Boyd was mostly responsible for them. At first he had grumbled, then he had complained throughout both shopping trips and only the somewhat pricey dinners had kept Grace from killing him both times, but admittedly, he had bought most of the presents for the kids.

And, of course, a few token for the lovely lady now curled against him on the sofa. He liked shopping for her. He really did and though he'd deny it to everybody, it wasn't exactly a secret in the neighbourhood.

Peter Boyd was mush once his wife turned on the charm...

The kids busy playing with their newly acquired toys he could focus on her weight against him on the sofa, the gentle smile playing on her face as she watched their brood.

The snip still sounded like a great idea, but looking at her now...neither Frankie nor Mel really looked like her, and Spencer didn't take after her either...and it would be lovely to have a little...

"Mummy? Daddy?" Keeping a death grip on his new Lego pirate set, Spencer crawled over to the sofa.

"What is it, son?" Boyd asked, extending his hand to brush the boy's curls away.

Spencer beamed at them, showing off his missing tooth. Mel was missing two and the two of them had been in a week long contest of who was producing the more spectacular gappy smile.

"The stocking."

"Form a full sentence please, Spencer."

Behind him, his sisters snickered, though quickly suppressed it under the sharp motherly eye contact.

Spencer frowned for a moment and then went back to his question. "There's a stocking for Mummy and for Daddy and for Frankie and for Mel and for me. But what is with the other stocking? The small one?"

Frowning, Boyd followed the boy's pointed finger. And really, there was another, much smaller stocking dangling from the fireplace. It didn't have a name on it and considering that Grace took care of every detail about Christmas, it must have been a deliberate omission.

"It doesn't have a name on it," Frankie chimed in, her interest perked as well.

"For who is it?" Mel asked.

Grace only smiled at the children, then turned to him. "I don't know yet."

Boyd knew that smile, knew it well...and for a moment closed his eyes in utter disbelief.

Merry Christmas...indeed.

* * *

"Boyd! Boyd!" There were several voices calling his name, drawing him from his deep nap on Grace's sofa. It was so warm and comfortable there; the heavy red that had gone with the turkey and the stuffing, and the warmth and comfort of Grace's home, had made him sleepy.

Actually, everybody had been sleepy after lunch, and gone for it. The kids had vegged out on the large settee, feet up, their Santa hats askew. Grace, on the other hand, had wandered in late, another glass of wine in her hand, dropped down next to him and so... so it had happened. While discussing the Christmas programme of the BBC, of all things, and the fact that he considered one of the characters in the main show to look like Grace's sloppy cousin.

And amidst all that, he had fallen asleep.

As Boyd came to now, he stared blearily at the amused faces before him, then at the weight against his side. Grace, no less bleary than he, stared back at the kids and their laughing faces.

"Shall we go outside so that you can do couple-stuff?" Eve cheekily asked. With Grace practically sprawled out on top of Boyd, with her hands in rather suggestive positions, she felt safe to get away with her rather naughty comment.

Even more shocking to Boyd, who was momentarily speechless, came Grace's reply. "Why don't you? Just leave my house intact and the snow outside."

"You do know that they will have years worth of gossip with that," he managed to choke out, once they were alone.

"They've already spent years speculating, Peter." Grace was all indulgent smiles. "It's a gesture of charity."

He nodded slowly, half in disbelief. His hands were wandering of their own accord. "And now?"

"We'll raise some you-and-me Christmas cheer?"

* * *

Thank you for reading. Comments would be greatly appreciated.

And a Happy New Year to all of you.


End file.
